Songs of the Present
by Simone of the Zordiak
Summary: Sequel to Ghosts of the Past. Angel and Xander have to learn about their new abilities, an ancient prophecy speaks of battles to come and Xander has to face his past
1. Lessons

TITLE: Songs of the present  
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak  
PART: 1/?  
EMAIL: burning_night@hotmail.com  
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns them, I play with them.  
I give them back when I'm finished  
(if they still want to go back... but he  
can get back the Gentlemen... even if   
they have good manners, they  
are still giving me the creeps)  
Feli, her friends and Andraious are mine  
and I won't give them away (unless you ask nicely)  
DISTRIBUTION: Feel free ... just tell me, I'd like to know where  
it goes to.  
RATING: NC-17  
SPOILERS: This a bonafide AU and the sequel to my story  
"Ghosts of the Past". Much of it won't make sense if you  
didn't read that story first.  
Attention: I play with the timelines of BtVS and Angel a lot,  
so while the Angel timeline is followed up to 'Eternity' before  
the "Ghosts"-story sets in, the BtVS Episode 'Hush' is going  
to happen (in my twisted for Fanfic- use way) in this story.  
And while Spike was able to escape the Initiative, he didn't  
managed it as fast as in the eps, so there is some recent  
trauma mentioned.  
PAIRING: A/X  
AUTHORS NOTES: English is not my native language.  
FEEDBACK: Is there a writer who doesn't want feedback ???  
Constructive critic always welcomed  
Flamers beware... I'm a fast learner and I have a good memory  
  
  
*** L.A. ***  
  
Xander looked down, way... way down. He gulped and swayed. The pavement  
was sooooo far away. He turned to the patiently waiting figure next to  
him. "Do we have to do this, Angel?" Xander couldn't help it, his  
voice sounded really whiny. Angel looked down the building, like  
Xander had done before, then he nodded. "We both need to learn how to  
fly, Xan. And Andraious," he nodded to the silently waiting hawkdemon  
on the other side of the roof, "said that the easiest way to learn it  
is to start with gliding first, using the aircurrents around high  
buildings." "I know," Xander nodded unhappily, "but does it have to  
be this high? Can't we use a lower building for starters? You know,  
all I can think about right now is that I'll become a really flat  
pavement pancake when I don't get the hang of this gliding thing in  
time."  
  
***  
  
Angel couldn't help but smile, as he listened to Xander's nervous  
chatter. He'd been speaking for a month now. His first words, spoken in  
the afterglow had taken him by surprise. Afterwards Xander had to  
partily relearn how to speak, after all he hadn't been able to talk  
for more than two years. But now his speaking abilities were on par  
with those of the old Xander. It had been fascinating to watch him,  
witnessing all the changes that he had gone through and how they had  
affected him. Xander was more mature than he had believed possible of   
the boy, he had met almost five years ago. Since he had merged with his  
vampire-demon, he was more joyous than his mute incarnation. One thing  
Angel was very grateful for, but he was also more insecure and shy about  
his relationship with Angel than before.  
True, they were mated and Xander did know what it meant, but he had to cope  
with Alexander's memories of being hated because of his vampire-nature,  
and Xander's less than happy memories of his mortal life. So Angel  
knew that his behavior wasn't about to change very soon. He had to be  
the strong one, the reassuring one in their relationship. Maybe he would  
have to tell him that he loved him every day for the next few centuries,  
but it was worth it.  
  
***  
  
Xander slowly inched away from the edge of the roof. True, he had  
said yes, when Angel told him that he had found someone, who would  
teach them how to fly, but this was such a long way down! Andraious,  
the Greek hawkdemon, walked to him. "You are afraid," he stated.  
"Well," Xander sighed, "it is just, I know it will really hurt when  
I don't get the hang of it in time." He wanted to tell him more, tell  
him about his doubts about really being able to fly... what if the  
wings weren't big enough, strong enough or even meant for flying?  
Andraious stopped him. "I want you to spread your wings, as wide as  
you can." Well, he could do this. With little concentration he  
changed into his other form, feeling his wings grow through the long,  
vertical slits in his shirt and spread them as wide as he could.  
  
***  
  
He loved to watch Xander change into his true form. It looked so good  
on him. Angel's eyes wandered over Xander's body. His true form was a  
bit different than his own, but Xander was not only Elutary, but also  
Heaven's voice, so there were meant to be differences.   
Xander's horns were golden, harmonizing beautifully with his brunette  
hair. His wings, now stretched to their maximum, were never the same  
color. Sometimes they were of a bluish silver, sometimes they were  
glowing like a fiery opal and sometimes, like now, they were of a pure  
golden color, like those of the angels in the big cathedrals.  
Beautiful.  
  
"Close your eyes," he heard Andraious instruct his childe and watched  
as Xander hid his expressive eyes behind incredibly long lashes. "Can  
you feel the wind? Can you feel the air weave through your feathers?"  
The voice of the hawkdemon was hypnotic and Angel almost followed him  
as well, only the desire to watch Xander held him back. "Feel the  
movement around you, the different currents, they will carry you. Do  
you feel it?" "Yess," Xander breathed and Angel suddenly had to force  
down his arousal. It looked like his mate was held in the arms of an  
invisible lover, of someone not him. Jealousy flared up in him, but  
Xander wasn't held by a lover, the caresses that made him moan were  
made by the air around him. He couldn't get jealous because of mere  
air, could he? Xander moaned again and Angel realized that, yes, he  
could.  
  
Andraious stepped torwards the ledge of the roof, coaxing Xander  
with him. Then suddenly he was no longer on the roof, using his wings,  
flying in front of him. "Come," he whispered, "it will carry you too."  
And Xander took the final step.  
  
For a moment it looked like he would fall, like he had feared he  
would, but then he started to soar. Gliding first and then, when he  
got braver, he flapped his wings, flying higher until he landed on  
the roof again.  
  
"I can fly!" He laughed and his face lit up with joy, making Angel  
shiver with happiness. Xander was happy and his happiness was more  
beautiful than any sunrise ever could be. And he could fly. He could  
really fly. "Why are you crying?" He was crying? Oh, yes, there was a  
tear or two running down his cheeks. "Because I'm so happy," he  
whispered in reply and it was true. The tears were happy tears, shed  
because he had been totally overwhelmed by his feelings. Complete  
happiness... and love.  
  
***  
  
Wesley rubbed his eyes. Ever since Angel's transformation and the  
appearance of Heaven's voice, his mate and childe, he had researched  
everything he could find about the Elutarym, Ur, the Chajalahat  
Uoluuht and the prophecies about Lillith's return and the dawn of a  
new city of a thousand tribes, a new Ur. But so far he hadn't been able  
to make sense out of most parts of the cryptic text.  
  
'Like Ureaus they shed their old skin  
and like Benu they return from the darkness  
to return the light to its rightful place  
father son mate  
  
The son of Bastet shall follow their steps  
Sachmet's daughter protect them during the rise of the evil ones  
Toth's child shall bring them the sacred words  
and Maat's daughter will guide them through the storms  
  
Born three times  
lost and found again  
they will be tested  
before the battle can being  
  
When the voiceless speaks  
when the speakers are voiceless  
then the ka of the son must be retrieved  
from the realm of Osiris  
  
Seth's priest shall find back to the path of Maat  
the wings of Benu will cut the air  
the battle must be won  
shall the mother return  
and the lost children find a new home'  
  
He massaged his temples. Sometimes he wished that prophecies weren't  
so damned cryptic. Sometimes he wished that his old-Egyptian was in a  
better shape than the fragments he remembered.  
  
Maybe he should call Giles, but the last time he had phoned the other  
ex-watcher, Giles had been more than rude and abrupt to him. True,  
the group in Sunnydale might have fought against another of those  
evil forces, but the lack of information nearly had killed them in an  
encounter with Xyrg-demons. He, Angel and Cordelia hadn't been in  
contact with any of the Sunnydale group since that incident. There  
had been no need and they had decided that independence from their old  
lives was better than being let down in a crucial moment again.  
  
That had been several months ago, before the drug-incident, before  
Xander, before all the changes that had happened to them. He reached  
for the phone, stopped. Perhaps it was time to tell them all that had  
happened. No, he knew *that* it was time. But that wasn't only his  
decision. Angel and Xander needed to be OK with it, too.  
  
So he had to wait until they came back. He sighed wistfully. They  
would start to learn how to fly tonight. Flying. He wished he could  
fly, too. It was an old childhood-dream of his. To be able to fly and  
touch the clouds with his fingertips.  
  
During all his time as a watcher he had researched the possibility of  
flying by means of magic. He had found several levitation  
spells, but they were impractical and almost completely useless,  
because the caster needed iron concentration while levitating and  
wouldn't be able to enjoy the flight itself. Then he had concentrated  
on wings, but even when he was able to create wings with glamour  
spells, those wings weren't able to carry him.  
  
Wesley sighed. He wasn't really jealous at Angel and Xander, no... not  
really. He just wished... but those wishes were useless. Frustrated  
he turned back to the books and scrolls and tried to concentrate.  
  
***  
  
Giles glanced at his silent house-guest and sighed. Ever since Buffy  
had found Spike, starved and delirious with hunger, yet unable to  
attack anything alive, he had been burdened with the now quiet and  
broken vampire. Buffy had been unable to stake him, instead she had  
carried the living skeleton to him. He still couldn't banish the  
image of eyes, so sunken in their sockets that they were only barely  
visible, of fingers that only consisted of a thin layer of skin over  
brittle bones, a chest made out of ribs, where he had been able to see  
the bones of Spike's spine while looking at his chest.  
The vampire had been unable to move, his muscles consumed by his own  
body in a last desperate attempt to nourish himself. When he had  
awakened out of his hunger-coma, he had asked, begged, to be staked.   
And like Buffy, Giles had been unable to do it. Because Spike had  
information about the soldiers. He had rambled about them, their base   
and the inhuman tests he had to endure while captured by them, when he   
had been delirious.  
Now he was their only source about the Initiative and what he had told  
them was really horrible. Even demons didn't deserve that kind of  
treatment. The Initiative had to be found and dealt with before they  
could cause more damage to the fragile balance of the Hellmouth.  
  
Again his eyes wandered to the silent figure that rested in the chair  
next to the window. Even if Spike had regained some weight, he was  
still far from his normal self and Giles seriously doubted that  
he would ever return to normal.   
It wasn't right. It was against the normal order of things. After they  
had dealt with the threat of the Initiative, he would search for a way  
to undo the damage that had been done by implanting the chip into  
Spike's head. It was not the natural way and Giles actually felt  
sympathy for the vampire, something he had never actually believed   
possible.  
  
He glanced at the clock. It was time again. He walked into the kitchen  
to heat up a fresh mug of blood. Spike wasn't showing any signs of  
hunger, but since his recent starvation, he seemed not to notice the  
demands of his body anymore. Left to himself he would simply forget to  
feed and slip into the circle of starvation once more. They had learned  
this very quickly and so they force-fed him every two hours until, so  
they hoped, the old Spike-persona would come back.  
  
Giles set the steaming mug in front of the vampire and waited.  
  
***  
  
Spike looked up, sighed. He knew the watcher wouldn't leave him alone  
until he had emptied the mug in front of him. He wanted, needed the  
silence and so, even if the blood didn't called to him anymore, he  
drank down the mug, handed it back to the watcher and slipped back  
into the quiet space, where nobody could harm him anymore.  
  
***  
  
He sighed as he watched the vampire mentally slip away again. He was  
at his wits end. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would call Angel.  
He might know a way to bring back the old Spike.   
  
Armed with his decision he went to sleep, not knowing that he never  
would be able to call Angel the next morning, since the Gentlemen  
decided to use this night to steal the voices of every person in  
Sunnydale.  
  
tbc 


	2. Visitations of the Past

TITLE: Songs of the Present  
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak  
PART: 2/?   
EMAIL: burning_night@hotmail.com  
RAITING: NC-17  
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns them, I play with them.  
I give them back when I'm finished   
Feli and her friends are mine and I won't give them   
away (unless you ask nicely)   
  
For other disclaimers see part one  
  
PS: I've heard rumors about Season 5 Spike being sired by Drusilla,  
but when I started this sequel the things happening in the 5th season  
were only rumors, since here in Germany the 5th season started only  
this November.  
So I can claim blissful ignorance to that fact and anyway Spike said  
Angel was his sire and he has to know it. So in this story, Angel  
is Spikes sire. Oh and Oz is still there... the Veruca-incident didn't  
really fit into my timeline.  
  
  
*** Sunnydale ***  
  
It was scary, wandering through a silent city, wanting to talk with  
your best friend but not being able to. Not hearing a single word   
where normally was the loud noise of human voices. Willow glanced  
around. There where people, eerily silent people, walking around, their  
faces reflecting shock and confusion. For a moment she wondered if  
her face was showing this emotions too, but she caught herself before  
she could slip into a right blue funk. There was no time to be   
depressed now, she and Buffy had to go to Giles to find out how and   
why their voices were gone and how to get them back. With renewed  
purpose she knocked at Giles' door.  
  
***  
  
Cordelia winced as the vision hit her. This time it was a particular   
nasty one, full of ugly grinning *things*, slaughtered people and... .  
"OhmyGOD!" She screamed, then collapsed on the ground, griping her  
hammering head.  
  
***  
  
He hated the visions, hated them with a passion. Yes, they helped them  
to find and stop the evil in the city, but did they have to hurt Cordy  
like this? Couldn't they be more painless? He knew that something like  
that was possible, because when Xander had talked about the messages  
and visions he received, he had told them that he didn't really feel  
pain, more something like an icy bolt of lightning that announced the  
message, strange but not painful. So why did Cordy's visions have to  
hurt so much? Angel didn't know it, just that he hated it. Because   
there was nothing he could do to ease her pain, just hold her and wait  
for her to come around, to tell him about the newest evil she had seen.  
  
Carefully he held the shaking body as she rode out the last spasms of  
the latest vision. The aspirin was standing on the floor, next to him,  
so he could reach it easily and quick... Cordelia would need it.  
"Angel?" He pressed her hand in reply, knowing by the tone of her   
voice that the last vision must have been really high up on the   
'unpleasant-and-painful-and-where-is-the-fucking-aspirin' scale. Such  
visions were always indicating something really mean and truly unwanted  
evil thing and he didn't really want to hear what the Powers had decided  
to tell them now. But he had to. "Need to go to Sunnydale, all of us.  
There are these really ugly things, that are grinning all the time and  
they have stolen all the voices and now they want to slaughter a lot  
of people and Spike will commit suicide and then everything will go to  
hell." Had she just said all of this in one sentence? Wait, Spike?   
  
"Spike?" Suicide? He couldn't believe it. If there was one person that  
wasn't even the tiniest bit of suicidal, then it was Spike. Why should  
he want to die of sudden? "Yes, Spike. Bleached blonde, always wearing  
the some clothes, trying to shish-ka-bob you the last time he was in  
town... Spike. But he was different. Something really bad must have  
happened to him. He was so thin and depressed and then he was crying  
and staked himself. And when he dies, lots of really and truly bad   
things happens, so we have to stop him from becoming dust. Oh and we  
all have to go. We are all needed. You and Xander, Wesley and me and  
the kids. They have all something to do there, but the powers didn't  
show me what and my head is really hurting now and why haven't you  
given me my aspirin?"   
  
Silently he gave he four of the pills and a glass of water, while   
thinking about the vision. Thinking about Spike. His emotions were a  
confusing mass. On one side he was proud of him, always trying to go   
his own way, even if he had to go against his own sire, on the other  
side he felt like he had failed him, like he should have done so many  
things different. If he hadn't abandoned his childer after becoming  
souled, hadn't mocked his injuries after losing his soul again, hadn't  
taken Drusilla from him after Spike had healed her, maybe everything  
would be different now. Better.   
  
His head was swimming with lots of different possibilities, but one   
thing was clear: he didn't want Spike to die. Spike was his childer,  
no more than that, he was his son and he would do anything to protect  
him.   
  
***  
  
Driving to Sunnydale had been an adventure in its own. Angel's car  
was too small for them all and Wes' motorcycle was just being fixed  
after the run in with a foul tempered Mitesh demon who had slashed his  
tires and cut his break lines. In the end they had to call a rental  
service and had rented the necessary vehicles. That had cost them two  
precious hours of time but now they were passing the road sign for  
Sunnydale. Soon they would be there.  
  
He looked out of the window, watching the oh so familiar streets and  
houses pass by. The hardest part was yet to come. The meeting with his  
old friends. Would they forgive him for running away? Would they accept  
him now, changed as he was, matured and mated with Buffy's ex-boyfriend?  
Would he still recognize them? Cordy and Angel had told him so much   
about what had happened in Sunnydale after his departure.  
Willow was a witch now, Oz a werewolf, Giles not a watcher anymore. He  
idly wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been turned or hadn't  
run away, but that were just idle musings.  
  
The car stopped. He took a deep breath and forced himself to let go  
of the depressing thoughts. It was time. Slowly he followed Angel to   
Giles' door, waited as Angel knocked.  
  
***  
  
The knock caused them to jump. Startled they looked at each other. Who  
could that be? The entire Scooby gang was already here, so who would  
knock now?  
  
Giles went to the door, took a deep breath to ask who was there - before  
he remembered that he had no voice to ask. With a frustrated sigh he  
unlocked the door and opened it a tiny bit to see who was knocking.  
Angel, Cordelia, Wesley (he sighed inwardly... why did Angel had to   
bring along this annoying prick ?), a brunch of children and in the   
middle of the clustering children... his eyes went wide. 'Xander ?' he  
mouthed in disbelieve. Quickly he strode past the other people, stopped  
in front of the boy whom he had believed dead for almost three years.  
He touched his face. Xander's skin was cold, too cold for a human. So  
Xander wasn't human anymore, but in this moment Giles didn't care about  
that.  
Xander was back.  
  
"Giles?" He looked up when he heard Angel's hesitant voice. "Cordelia  
received a vision that you'd need our help." Angel made a gesture to   
include all the people he had brought with him. "Can we come in?"   
Giles nodded and, with silent regret, let go of Xander. He wished he  
could ask what had happened to Xander, how he had changed into the  
silent and serious man he could see in front of him. But right now   
there was no time for things like that. They had to find out what had  
happened to them, why they had lost their voices, how to get them back  
and who was responsible for all this chaos. He gestured for them to  
enter, watched as fifteen more or less bouncy bundles of energy   
practically stormed into his tidy and organized home, wincing   
soundlessly as he thought about the havoc those kids could create in  
addition to the confusion of Xander's reappearance. He didn't knew it,  
but a tiny happy smile was playing on his lips the entire time.  
  
***  
  
It was a bit of a shock, when the children, the loud laughing and  
chattering children entered the room. Their laughing sounded so loud  
in the enforced silence, filling the room with cheer and excitement.   
Buffy had jumped up when the first child entered the room, ready to  
defend herself and her friends, but when she saw that it were only  
children she sat down again... only to jump up a second time when she  
saw the others... Angel, Cordelia, Wesley and then, shyly, half   
hidden beneath Giles, a face she had believed long gone, a friend  
that had been dead, her friend whom she had failed when Angelus had  
appeared two and a half agonized years ago.  
A small part of her noticed that Willow had jumped up with a toneless  
scream on her lips. Oz, who hadn't known Xander for long before he  
seemingly died, was holding her back as she tried to run to her   
childhood friend.  
  
Buffy's thoughts were slowing down to a stop when her slayer senses  
told her that Xander wasn't human any more. He felt strange and very  
powerful, but the warning tingle of evilness was missing, so he was  
no evil demon. She could handle this, somehow, but later; right now  
she needed to find out who had stolen all the voices and give that  
jerk a good trashing.  
  
***  
  
Angel watched cautiously as the scene unfolded in Giles' living room,  
always a watchful eye on his mate. This wasn't easy for Xander, he  
knew this, but it looked like his old friends were accepting him back  
into their lives. At least for the moment, for this crisis. Nobody  
could know how they reacted after this mess was over, after they had  
learned what Xander had become.  
But he would worry about that later, there were other, more urgent  
matters he had to take care of now. He had caught his first glimpse  
of Spike and frankly said he was upset. Cordelia had told them that  
Spike wasn't doing so well, but this was worse than everything he had  
expected. His childe was painfully thin and his eyes... they were   
dead, without even the slightest hint of emotion, worse than even  
Drusilla's eyes had been before he had turned her. Now he understood  
the warning of Cordys vision, but he didn't knew how to prevent it  
from happening. All he wanted to do was taking him in his arms and  
never let go until his son was safe again. Safe and happy. Acting on  
his impulse he enfolded the smaller, frailer vampire in his arms.  
  
***  
  
Safe. For the first time in decades he felt really and truly safe. He  
couldn't explain why or how being embraced by his sire made him feel  
this way, only that it did. The tension slowly seeped out of his form,  
leaving him exhausted and at the end of his emotional control. A faint  
tremor rocked his form, growing stronger and stronger until he   
couldn't hold back any more, couldn't deny himself anymore, until he  
broke down and, for the first time in a century, allowed himself to  
cry.  
  
The entire time he was being held in strong arms, was being rocked  
and stroked and a low voice was murmuring soothing words into his ear.  
And he cried. Cried or all the pain he had endured, all the lies and  
broken promises, all destroyed hopes. But before all he cried because  
after all these long years and unsuccessful tries he had finally found  
what he had been searching for so long. He finally had found back home.  
  
***  
  
She watched silently as the son cried in the arms of the father, saw  
the looks exchanged by father and mate and could feel it, the moment  
the mate came to his decision. She knew what would happening next.  
The ka of the son would be returned by the mate to form the third  
balance keeper, as it had been prophesied a long time ago. There had  
to be three balance keepers to fight the battle. Three children of  
Lillith and Raphael to return the old order. Three, the truest of  
all magic numbers, three, the defender, the protector and the guardian.  
A smile played around her lips as she watched the interplay unfolding  
before her. Soon everyone would be on there predestined place and  
Sachmets daughter would protect them all.  
  
tbc 


End file.
